


Self-Pleasure

by Eruphadriel



Series: NSFW Challenge [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Masturbation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 15:00:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4839776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eruphadriel/pseuds/Eruphadriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That's what you get for committing such an act in the middle of the day, ser.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Self-Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> Try to lessen the lurid nature of the challenge names without giving each a weird, creative title is proving difficult.

Cullen slammed his door shut and reluctantly ascended the ladder to his loft. He could still hear the ring of swords in the courtyard. The Inquisitor's grunts of effort skittering on the wind with the newly-fallen leaves and tugging at his focus. The image of her and Cassandra sparring clung to his mind.

Cullen shed his clothes until he wore only a pair of breeches. He didn't usually do this. Not at this time of day. Not while Skyhold was abuzz and he had work to do. The commander brushed a hand over the front of his trousers and gave a shudder. He sat down on the edge of the bed. It was wrong to think of her. But he couldn't think of anything else.

It was Inquisitor Trevelyan's fault, and none other. He had only left his recruits for a moment to speak with the smithy about salvaging weaponry from Haven. And when he had returned, Cullen had found Triss and Cassandra sparring. Teeth clenched, muscles taut, lithe steps and lethal strikes. Heat had coiled low in his belly as he had watched her, her power condensed into hacking blows, to twists fit for a dancer and dodges smooth as water.

What he wouldn't give to see that power unbridled; raw, unleashed after years of honing. Her careful reign over herself torn from her hands by passion, by  _need_. Unbidden images of the warrior's muscled body naked beneath him flashed in his mind. Pinning her down right there, shouted challenges morphing to whimpered cries,  _begging_  for more, for –

 _Just get it over with,_  he ordered himself, pulling the laces of his trousers and lifting himself up off of the bed to pull them and his smalls down. The roughspun fabric crumpled around his ankles. Cullen bit his bottom lip as he cradled his length in his palm, hot and hard from watching her. He ran a calloused thumb over the tip, smearing the liquid that had already gathered there.

He shut his eyes, desire mingling with guilt as Triss stood in front of him in his mind's eye. Arms folded beneath her tiny breasts, hip cocked, eyes glittering, lips curled into a playful smirk as she placed one hand on his shoulder and pushed him. Cullen fell onto his back, loosely stroking his arousal. Wrist twisting, fingertips ghosting. He could feel her warm legs on either side of him.

He thrust up into his hand, hips lifting off of the bed. His palm was too calloused to mimic the softness of her skin. Were Triss's hands rough? Cullen let out a trembling sigh as he watched her hand move up and down his cock in slow, teasing movements. Her thumb flicked over the sensitive tip. Cullen ignored the ache in his wrist. In his mind, Triss pressed the head of his cock against her entrance, rolling her hips and letting his arousal slip over her folds, hitting her bundle of nerves over and over until she gave a choked cry.

Cullen kicked off his trousers and smalls. He flipped her over onto her back. She sunk into his scarlet sheets, hands pinned over her head. With his knee, he knocked her legs open. His linens were warm from laying there. He rutted against his stilled hand, one arm pressed into the bed, eyes squeezed shut. A tightness curled in his belly, building with every thrust, every second feeling like the last before the first wave of pleasure crashed over him. But he was too focussed on her to stop. Too busy imagining the tight heat of her sex, the way her tits bounced as he pumped into her, the trail of bruises his mouth left over her neck, her shoulders, her chest. Claiming her, condensing her fury until her hips bucked up to meet his movements and her back arched, throat strained,  _gasping._

The door to his office below burst open, knob colliding with the adjacent stone wall.

"Commander?" Triss called.

Freezing didn't help. At the sound of her breathless voice, Cullen came undone. His hips rocked uncontrollably as he spent himself, biting down hard on his lip and twisting sheets into his fist to keep from crying out her name in response.  _C-Commander!_  she moaned in his mind, ardour swimming deep in her hazel eyes before she closed them and repeated his name in moan after breathy, hoarse moan. The image was chased away by his fear.

"Cullen? Are you up there?" The soles of her boots rasped against the floor. Ladder rungs creaked under her weight.

Cullen sprang from the bed and threw the sheets, haphazardly folding them in half to cover the evidence.

"J-Just a moment!" he plead, his voice garbled with the echoes of his climax, gruff with desire.

The sound of her ascent paused, then continued. Cullen wiped his hand clean with his tunic and scrambled to yank his smalls and trousers up. The commander spun around just as the Inquisitor's head poked up from the loft's entrance.

"I don't know  _how_  you climb that every night," she said with a grunt as she hoisted herself up onto the second floor. "Especially not in that armour. Do you sleepwalk? No? Good. You may fall through. Though you seem accustomed to having holes in your quarters." Triss pointed to the ragged gap in his roof as a cluster of vibrant orange leaves fluttered to the floor.

Cullen's heart pounded in his throat. Was that horror or arousal that made sweat bead on the back of his neck?

"Did you need something, Inquisitor?" he asked.

Triss shrugged. "You seemed upset when I last saw you storming off. Your recruits are wondering where you are, too. And..." Her face twisted in confusion. "Did you... Are your breeches  _backwards_ , ser?"

He didn't dare glance down. He could already tell by the way his trousers hugged his half-hard cock. "No."

"Cullen, I may not know as much about trebuchets and Orlesian hair products as you do, but I know the back of trousers from the front."

She narrowed her eyes and let her gaze roam over the bed. "Hmph." Triss nodded once. "I know what's going on here. Cheeky."

"And what would that be?" challenged Cullen, praying that Triss wouldn't throw the sheets back.

Instead, the Inquisitor winked at him. "I like to take midday naps, too. Not the same with clothes on, are they?"

"O-Oh!" he stammered in shock. "Right. I --"

"I won't tell anyone," she promised before turning away. She started down the ladder, then paused and added, "Don't worry, Cullen; go back to sleep. I'll cover for you."

The commander remained absolutely still until he heard the door shut and silence overtook his chambers once more. He closed his eyes, covering his face with one hand. It was over. He had gotten away with it. Cullen hoped to have found some comfort in his escape. But all he had to show was the fact that Triss slept in the nude branded in his mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Make sure to check out what I've already posted in this NSFW Challenge, and check back for more in the next few days! Feedback is appreciated and encouraged ^^


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